


i'd like to hold her (head underwater)

by Pixielle



Category: Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu, Haikyuu!!
Genre: Carmilla AU, F/F, Genderswap, Gothic, Lesbian Vampires, Shapeshifting, but Sappho herself compelled me to write this so it is done, i understand that this appeals to the tiniest percentage of the haikyuu fandom, specifically the novella and not any of the adaptations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 09:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixielle/pseuds/Pixielle
Summary: The nightmares of her childhood hadn’t yet left Koutarou, though fifteen years had passed since the onset of them. Dreams of black cats- no, not cats, but one hellish pantheric beast with golden eyes larger than any cat's eyes. (Carmilla AU)





	i'd like to hold her (head underwater)

The nightmares of her childhood hadn’t yet left Koutarou, though fifteen years had passed since the onset of them. Dreams of black cats- no, not cats, but one hellish pantheric beast with golden eyes larger than any cat's eyes.

It moved as if between realms, as only dreams can provide, the darkness of night bleeding into its coat and leaving the edges fuzzy to young Koutarou’s eyes. Moonlight finally streamed through the break in the heavy curtains, and created a shine to the creature’s coat. This brought focus to her, no longer an unidentified mass but warm-blooded and feline, not unlike the many domestic cats who traipsed between the village’s estates each day to beg for their supper.

Koutarou felt her hand raise from the lace of her summer blanket, enticing the creature to come closer, small clicks leaving her own mouth, but not of her own volition. The beast walked fully into the moonlight, and once again shimmered as it amorphized and reformed into a human-looking woman. She sauntered slowly, short black hair a mess about her temples and chin. Her deathly pale skin was mostly covered by a black dress and cloak, but her feet were bare in the humidity. Koutarou sat enraptured as the woman walked toward her with no reservation, no pleasantries, no concern. Eyes still beaming in the moonlight, a small smirk began to form on her once emotionless face.

Koutarou felt no fear. In fact, she still felt nothing at all.

The woman sat down on the bed next to her, wrapping her cloak around herself as if a blanket, and she urged the child to cuddle down under their own blankets as she offered her hand to her. There was no resistance, and the smaller hand slid along her own. The woman leant down then, and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. Koutarou again met her eyes, and saw the adoration, warming her like a midnight sun.

Suddenly, Koutarou was overwhelmed with the emotion that had been absent for the majority of this vision. She surged over the bed into the hold of the woman, and the woman took a stuttering breath as they embraced. It registered then that she was breathing in the scent of life held within the child, uncorrupted and clean. Gently, she tucked the child back in and cuddled in as if she would be sleeping. Koutarou too breathed in the scent of metallic iron and herbaceous earth as she stared into the woman’s eyes, waiting for her to vanish again. Soon sleep began to overtake her mind, and unable to keep her eyes open she allowed herself to slip away.

In no time at all, she soon awakened to terrified screaming coming from herself, yet she was completely alone, sans the drapery fluttering and coming to a rest as she fully came to. The nursemaid and her father quickly ran to her bedside, but being unable to extract what fear she was feeling they briskly dismissed her fright as from a fantastical hallucination. She agreed, though it had felt real and to her the scent of iron still lingered.

As she lay back down, her nursemaid sat knitting gently under faint candlelight by her side for the rest of the night, she ran the pads of her fingers along the two clean puncture wounds that rested just below her collarbone. The faint pain it gave off self-soothed the child, and when she awoke the next morning proper they were gone, never to return for the rest of her juvenescence. But still both the beast and the woman in black reappeared to her frequently, but she knew it truly was only a dream, a mere memory, as the woman never changed nor aged.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure if I wanted to post this or not because it's so short and pretty self explanatory, but it was hanging out in my drafts and I was like "why not!" I've always wanted to write for Bokuroo but never had the write idea but then I was listening to Carmilla while working last week and I was like "oof, this imagery, they are fem Bokuroo". 
> 
> This was written during a writer's block and man, is this different than my normal style. But I think it does okay with the tone of the novella that I tried to convey! p.s. read Carmilla!!! All of the incidentally sapphic things sent my heart fluttering and the audiobook is only 3 hrs- so worth it 🖤 Oh, and the title is specifically from Lana Del Rey's cover of Sublime's Doin Time!
> 
> pixielle22 @ twitter / pixielle @ tumblr


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